Smurf's Reimagined
by DatDude
Summary: The cloest thing I have to an explanation for this wrongness is I wanted to turn something our fast, and the rest of the time i was lauging to hard too care how wrong it was.


He lay awake to wary to sleep. It had been six weeks since the Smurf infestation in the walls had gone from bad to worse. Their where now a hundred or so of the little blue commie fuckers singing frolicking and working witchcraft in the name of their pagan god.

Last week when he'd brought home that cat it seems the little blue Stalin in the red hat had taken it as a formal declaration of war. Now after seven long sleep deprived days that cost him his job his girlfriend and the terror of a bloody cat head in his kitchen sink the " war " was lost. The three apple tall abominations had annexed the bathroom as water source and spoils of war. It had been thirty six hours since he'd been able to shit. Sure he could go to a gas station, a dinner or even the sewer grate on the street corner, but he'd come to welcome the pain in his bowels! It was a sign of his hatred for the sorry state of his life forced on him but the tiny Bolsheviks singing fa-la-la-la-la in praise of Satan just behind picture of his Mother. It hang innocently as whatever debauchery a society with 99 men and only one woman engaged it unseen by prying eyes.

In his constipation however had come a moment of INSPRATION! As his bowels slowly moved toward rupture his mind had become genius! Cocaine, lots of pure white cocaine stashed around the kitchen where his enemies foraged for food. At first just the sugar bowl, but he'd just started spreading it around the corners of the walls like so much bug killer ( that hadn't worked when he tired it by the way. )

He'd acquired the Cocaine at a very good price from a local dealer name Nicky the nose, that had given him a four hour tale about how his is younger brother had sparked a Smurf civil war in the projects between the five local Smurf villages. It seems he'd run off in unholy lust with two of the tribes Smurfettes, leaving them unable to breed in the face of their enemies. For two years it seems the poor humans of projects lived in fear as Smurf fought Smurf to Smurf-ageddon for control of the remaining females. Then one day a savior appeared in the form of a one legged Vietnam war veteran convinced that tiny VC had finally come for him for what he'd done in the jungles outside Laos so long ago.

In a matter of days he'd turned his neighbors into a rag tag band of guerrillas that had used the local cocaine supply as a the tool of the blue bastards downfall. In the end the remaining three Pappas had given reparations in the form of the bodies of their own dead to be transmuted into gold in return for more of the " magic powder " they all now craved. The victorious guerrilla leader had kept his word so far as the cocaine but added the tidbit that spelled doom for the remaining blue Huns. He'd wrapped the cocaine " shipments " in handkerchiefs from Mrs. Johnson's twins who had had a horrid case of the flu for most of " war ". Like smallpox to native Americans the Smurfs had no immunity, between the drugs and flu it was another month before they'd all watched with a hint of sadness in their eyes as the last two Smurfs had fought to the death over who would be the humans gold and who would get blow. In the end the hefty looking one with the heart shaped tattoo had carried off enough power to off a small dog never to be seen again.

He hoped to equal their success, and then take a victory shit in his reconquered bathroom.

He could hear it beginning, as the walls rang out with disgusting wails of glee! " This Smurf is the smurfiest! Where did you Smurf this ? We'll have to Smurf some more, and Smurf up a party! I'll invite Smurfette! No I'll invite her!"

Then as he was fighting to not streak his undies, he had another brilliant plan the garbage can in the hallway was considered part of the nurture zone as per the treaty. He could in fact poop in that garbage and . . . .NO total victory or complete Renal failure!

Then it hit him he had not relieved himself in a day and a half, and at most a man can survive a week without expelling waste according to the Internet. Did he have time to wait for the powdered white end game he so desired? He had a far smaller infestation, but still did he have the time? No he did not, as such he will require an inside man. . .or Smurf . .

Just after he'd been forced to cut short his last bowel movement by the arcane blasphemies the little blue pagans had worked on his toilet seat, and before the " negotiations " that entailed him being tied to the floor with Smurf special forces marching on his chest threatening to " Smurf his nipples off " if he didn't relent his attempts to kill them all. He'd captured one of the enemy in the cold hours before dawn, or did he? This Smurf was not a Smurf beaten in the head several times with a large mallet and cast out of the tribe for some reason or another he couldn't quite understand. What it had said during " interrogation " was difficult to follow as it kept saying Smurf in the place of nouns and verbs at random.

Making his way to the kitchen he could hear them skittering around hopped up on coke, looking for more. With the utmost secrecy he opened the freezer the one place in the house the invaders lacked the hight and strength to access. Inside he saw his captive sitting on a now cold hot watter bottle he kept re heating and placing in with his as a reminder of the fact that if he dies this captive would freeze into a Smurf-pop. Hurrying into his bedroom, considered by the enemy to be his capital and only accessible to an official diplomat, under a flag of peace. Placing his shivering prisoner on an electric blanket he turned it to the lowest setting before speaking.

" Hello my little friend. "

The shivering blue outcast spoke in defiance of fear.

" Are you planning to Smurfing cook me now you Smurfing bastard! "

" Why no, the war is over, and as a token of peace I am going to release you with a gift. You're Smurf armed forces have defeated my on field of honor, and I admit defeat. Your country-Smurfs have already Smurfed some of my . . .magic powder, but i'll give you a bit of the love potion we humans make from it. It is a hundred times umm Smurfier then stuff used to make it. "

The little blue creature seemed emboldened by the news that the war was over.

" Why should I Smurf anything but tell Papa Smurf how Smurfing horrible you've been to me? "

" Because my friend the war is over and we have to live together Smurfs and men in Smurfieness. "

" Bull-Smurf. "

" Ok fine, the umm love potion is valuable to my people, and I plan to trade it to Smurf village so I can rent my bathroom back. The umm Smurf is I can't get to the village to trade it myself, and I need an inside Smurf. Your people hate you, they aaa Smurfed you out in the middle of a war. Maybe if you had something valuable they'd take you back and Smurf you some respect. "

The small blue thing with what appeared to be thick glasses seemed to spend a few minutes in thought, before speaking.

" You have a deal, but if you Smurf with me I'll Smurf down your thought while you sleep. . ."

" Ok then. Here is the umm free sample. Just toss it in the fire place while your lady err Smurfette is over and let the magic happen! If you want any more though I get a half hour of bathroom time. "

He handed over the crack he'd bought to numb his own pain if it came to shitting his pants or death. After letting his doop go he sat by the clock, and gazed at it like the madman war and Smurfdom had made him.

When dawn came, he could tell it was the beginning of the end. They skittered about with less stealth, and by the sound of kitchen they'd been going heavy on the white horse trying to equal the crack high. He was sure a few of them where even dead, but the others hopefully didn't know yet or didn't care. By the time the clock struck twelve and the Smurf with the glasses showed up, he knew he'd be shitting pretty by dark. It was sporting a new red hat over soiled whit pants, and had some lipstick in places in places he didn't want to look at.

" Hello giant Smurfless human-thing! I new Papa of the great Smurf village have come to neg-o-she-ate for more of your famed wares! "

He imagined pissing on the creature, but no that would wait till after he turned it to gold or whatever.

" Hello little friend! "

The new Papa Smurf jittered back and forth jonesing for another hit already.

" We are prepared to offer a human hour assuming you promise not to defile our sacred . . "

He cut the Smurf off.

" Fine we have a deal! Here is your crack err love portion have fun and its bigger then the last one so have company over! "

He has by now decided to take his victory poop a bit early and have another one after the Smurfs where gone as he was sure he had the built up reserves. Watching with glee as the blue junkie he had created ran off to spell the doom for his people, the time had come to strut Travolta style into his much sought after prize. Arriving in the bathroom he noticed that some redecoration had gone in in his absence. Skulls, pentagrams, and the word " frums " written in what appeared to be cat blood on the walls a few times.

" Fuck it I'll paint later. "

Sitting with glee on his thrown a wave or relief came over him, as all the filth came out of him.

" Aaaaaa This must be what Vulcan sex is like . . .Aaaaaa "

Then like a voice from the grave came a shreek!

" OH NOW WHAT HAVE YOU DONE HUMAN! "

Looking the sink that served as the Smurf villages water source he saw a badly beaten hatless old Smurf in red pants. The look in his eyes was full of sadness and spent rage. He could tell this was the one that tried to save the rest and failed.

" I'm taking a shit you little blue invader! When this is over I'm going to pay my rent and get some razzles with the bodies of your inbred blue kin! "

" You will do nothing human but die! The bodied of my little Smurfs are prone to transmutation! By defiling their final resting place you have angered souls of those that have gone before! They will rise up in outrage! "

He dropped another log, as he ignored the forlorn Smurf.

" Aaaa! Your people have no souls bastard they sold them to me for drugs and half a chance with that blond bimbo you keep around! "

He could see the old Smurf's heart finally break at the sound of his words.

" Then Smurf-dom is finished ! The dead will rise, and darkness will consume the land . . . "

Our hero finished his long awaited crap session with a whip and rose to flush.

" Shit happens man, try moving into the walls of someone who cares, or at least not taking a mans crapper! "

Looking down at the bowel to see his victory he could see about ninety or so little blue corpse crawling around in his pile of shit. One of them the blond haired one that they all Smurfed off to the though of every night poked her head above water shrilled an other worldly shrill!

" SMURF! SMURFFFFFF! "

Our hero replied with indifference.

" Wow that's interesting! "

He hit the flusher, and watched them circle the drain with a savage glee.

" Oh well no razzles for me. Now I'm going to put you in the freeze, and wait for the rest to come looking for drugs, and toss them in with you so you can all discuss what poor living arrangements you made that resulted in tragedy, before I sell some Smurf gold on e-bay. "

He carried the fallen Papa off to die in the cold, knowing he'd done gods work this day and one a victory for democracy.


End file.
